Killigrew’s Run

by Jonathan Lunn

  She glanced at Killigrew. ‘I might have known he’d’ve dragged you into this,’ she told the petty officer.

  ‘Where would Aeneas be without his faithful Achates?’ asked Killigrew.

  ‘Or Don Quixote without his Sancho Panza?’ Araminta suggested, smiling sweetly.

  Killigrew laughed at that, and was about to turn away when Molineaux called out a warning. Killigrew whirled in time to see the guard the petty officer had knocked out rising to his feet, drawing a large bayonet from his belt. He charged at Killigrew, swinging the blade.

  There was no time for the commander to unsling his musket. He jumped back beyond the reach of the blade’s arcing tip, and caught the man by the wrist. The Russian slammed him back against the wall and tried to force the blade into his stomach. Killigrew twisted his wrist and turned the bayonet back, pushing the blade home in his opponent’s stomach with a massive effort. The Russian staggered back, clutching the protruding haft with blood pouring over his hands.

  Araminta raised her knuckles to her mouth and let out a little cry of fright. Oh, Jesus, don’t you dare faint on me, Killigrew thought sourly. But whatever its faults, the British aristocracy were built of sterner stuff than that.

  Lord Bullivant stared down at the dead Russian in astonishment. ‘Good God, man! I believe you’ve killed him!’

  ‘I believe I have,’ Killigrew agreed drily.

  ‘You oh-kay, sir?’ As the others poured out of their cell to where Endicott was distributing their belts and bootlaces, Molineaux came back down the corridor to investigate Araminta’s shocked cry.

  ‘Yes, no thanks to you! Can’t you knock someone out for more than a few seconds?’

  Seeing the dead Russian, Molineaux grinned. ‘Sorry, sir. Forgot how thick these Russkis’ skulls are.’

  ‘Look, what the devil’s going on here?’ demanded Lord Bullivant. ‘We can’t just go… breaking out… of this place. I’m starting to think we’re in a ticklish enough position as it is, without you navy types making it worse by murdering guards!’

  ‘We’re pressed for time, my lord,’ Killigrew explained, ‘so I’m going to keep this short and simple, and not spare the ladies’ sensibilities with euphemistic circumlocutions. If we don’t get out of here now, the Russians are going to kill us all.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, man! They wouldn’t dare!’

  ‘They’ve already tried to kill me once. You were next on their list; once they’d tortured you to extract a confession of espionage. Then they were going to kill the others, and tell our government that we all died in a cholera outbreak.’

  ‘But that’s outrageous! Are you quite certain you haven’t misconstrued the situation, somehow?’

  ‘You know something, my lord? That very same thought occurred to me. I tried to ask Colonel Nekrasoff to explain it to me again, just to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood him, but it was rather difficult to articulate my concerns on account of how one of his minions was torturing me at the time. Now, you can stay here, and when the rest of us get back to the fleet I’ll send a report to Lord Clarendon suggesting that he protest to the Russian government in the strongest terms; or you can shut up, do exactly as I tell you, and maybe – just maybe – I can get you, your family and your crew back to safety. So if you’ll excuse me, my lord…’ Killigrew turned and made his way towards the stairs.

  ‘You damnable, jumped-up young whippersnapper!’ Bullivant called after him. ‘How dare you talk to me like that? I’ll have you dismissed the service for this!’

  ‘Go and take care of his lordship for me, would you?’ Killigrew asked Hughes as he pushed his way through the crowd of sailors gathered at the foot of the stairs. ‘If he gives you any trouble, you have my permission to deck him. I’ve a feeling he’s going to be a lot easier to handle unconscious than conscious.’

  ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ Hughes grinned; the idea of getting to punch a member of the aristocracy held considerable appeal for the Welsh communist.

  ‘Molineaux, Endicott, you two come with me. The rest of you follow. And keep silence!’ Killigrew unslung his musket and climbed up the stairs. He paused at the doorway at the top, motioning for the others to keep back, and peered out across the courtyard. The blazing keep above threw a hellish, flickering glow over the scene. There were no guards in evidence – with any luck they would all be in the keep, fighting the blaze – but they were not going to be able to get horses hitched to enough telezhki to get them all back to Ekenäs without someone noticing.

  Killigrew glanced back down the stairs. ‘Vowles, Iles – to me!’

  The two men squeezed past the others to join the commander with Molineaux and Endicott at the top of the stairs. Killigrew handed his musket to the coxswain. ‘Molineaux, give your musket to Iles so he and Vowles can keep us covered.’

  ‘What are we going to do, sir?’

  ‘There are two dozen of us, all told. With two men on the driving board of each telezhka the rest of us should be able to fit into two of them. There isn’t time to harness horses to any more…’

  ‘Eh, what’s a telezhka, sir?’ asked Endicott.

  ‘One of those carriages,’ Killigrew explained patiently.

  ‘If we leave any of them carriages, sir, the Ivans will only use them to chase us,’ Molineaux pointed out.

  ‘Not if we sabotage them first. Captain Thornton!’ he called back down the stairs. ‘Is there a carpenter in your crew?’

  ‘What do you want a carpenter for?’

  ‘I haven’t got time for foolish questions, Thornton. Just answer the question, is there or isn’t there?’

  Thornton sighed. ‘Go see what he wants, Burgess.’

  One of the Milenions climbed up the stairs. ‘Jack Burgess, sir.’

  ‘See those two tel— those two carriages on the left?’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘Think you can sabotage them?’

  Burgess rubbed his jaw, and grinned. ‘Aye, I think I might be able to manage that. I’ll need a couple of shipmates to bear a hand, though.’

  ‘Take your pick.’

  ‘Ben! Ned! Show a leg, there!’ Burgess turned back to Killigrew. ‘What about the Russians? You’re not expecting us to—’

  ‘Vowles, Iles and Endicott will take care of the Russians. Vowles, Iles, I want you two to go up on the gallery. There are doors leading out on to it from either end of the keep. Vowles, you take the one on the left, Iles can take the other. Endicott, you take the door at ground level. Try to kill ’em so they fall where you can get their muskets. And don’t waste any shots. Use your stocks if you can.’

  ‘Aye, aye, sir.’

  ‘What about me, sir?’ asked Molineaux.

  ‘You’re going to help me hitch the horses to the carriages.’

  ‘Me, sir?’

  ‘You have a problem with that, Molineaux?’

  ‘You know I don’t like animals, sir.’

  ‘They’re horses, Molineaux, not polar bears.’

  ‘Even so, sir… I don’t know the first thing about all them reins and harnesses and such like… there must be someone here who’d be more use to you than I would.’

  Killigrew sighed. ‘All right, all right! Anyone here got any experience of handling horses?’

  The sailors exchanged glances. No one volunteered.

  ‘Come on!’ Killigrew said impatiently. ‘I want someone to help me hitch them to the carriages, not to go bareback riding at Astley’s!’

  ‘What about me?’ Araminta reminded him. ‘I can ride.’

  ‘Very kind of you to offer, Miss Maltravers, but there are going to be people shooting at us. This really isn’t a job for a woman. Come on, damn it, surely one of you can hitch a horse to a carriage?’

  When no one said anything, Lady Bullivant started to climb the stairs. Her husband caught her by her arm. ‘Hester! What are you doing? You heard what he said: this is no job for a woman.’

  She jerked her arm free of his grip. ‘Unfortunately, it seems there are no
men capable here at present. Come along, Araminta.’

  The two ladies climbed the stairs. ‘I’m afraid you’re stuck with us, Mr Killigrew.’

  He sighed. ‘It seems I have no choice. All right: on the word go, Vowles, Endicott and Iles will go first. Then, the two ladies will come with me to the stables: walk, don’t run, understand? Then Burgess and his crew can get to work on the other carriages while we hitch the horses to the two on the right. Charlton, you look after Dahlstedt: without him, we’ll never get back to the fleet. Hughes, stay with Lord Bullivant and the maid. Thornton, you and the rest of your men help Vowles, Endicott and Iles keep the guards back. Divide your men into three teams, one for each door.’

  Thornton nodded. ‘Mr Mackenzie, take Ogilby and Todd and help Vowles; Mr Uren, you take Doc and Searle and help Mr Iles; O’Leary, you’re with Endicott and me.’

  ‘Molineaux, you can help Captain Thornton and O’Leary,’ said Killigrew. ‘Now, does everyone know what he’s doing? Speak now, or for ever hold your peace. Right, let’s go! Molineaux, your team first.’

  The petty officer ran out of the door with Endicott, Thornton and O’Leary. As they pressed themselves up against the wall on either side of the door leading into the keep, Vowles’ and Iles’ teams followed, mounting the wooden stairs to the gallery. Iles turned right at the top and dropped to one knee immediately outside the door leading into the round tower at the end of the keep, with Uren, Doc and Searle at his back, while Vowles, Mackenzie, Ogilby and Todd raced the length of the gallery to the door at the other end. So far, the Russians seemed to have their hands full fighting the blaze in the keep.

  ‘Ladies, if you’ll come with me?’ Killigrew stepped out of the doorway and strolled casually across to the stables with Araminta and her mother. ‘If you two can start bringing the horses out in pairs, I’ll hitch them to the carriages.’

  They nodded, their faces pale in the orange glow of the fire.

  ‘When the shooting starts, just drop to the ground and stay there,’ Killigrew instructed them.

  ‘Drop to the ground?’ Lady Bullivant said indignantly.

  ‘I’m sure you can buy new gowns once you’re safely back in England.’

  ‘It’s not our gowns that concern me, Mr Killigrew. Do you really think it’s wise to lie on the ground in a courtyard full of horses when there’s shooting going on? The horses are certain to be frightened and skittish. I hardly think we can rely on them to look where they’re putting their hoofs, do you?’

  She had a point, damn her. ‘All right, just… duck behind the carriages. The side away from the keep: that’s where the shooting will be coming from.’

  ‘Really, Mr Killigrew?’ Lady Bullivant said acerbically. ‘I would never have guessed.’

  Flinching under her sarcasm, Killigrew left to fetch the horses and crossed back to the telezhki. Burgess, Fuller and Yorath were already hard at work, sabotaging the far two. Araminta brought out the first pair of horses, and Killigrew began to hitch them to the second telezhka. ‘Get back inside and bring out two more horses,’ he told her, his fingers fumbling with the traces. ‘The less time you spend out here, the happier I’ll be.’

  ‘Is my company really so objectionable?’

  ‘All I’m thinking about right now is your safety.’

  She smiled. ‘I was aware of that, Kit.’ She turned and hurried back to the stables.

  Kit. It had been a long time since she had called him that: two and a half years ago, the two of them lying in one another’s arms in his seedy rooms in Paddington – hardly a fitting venue for a viscount’s daughter, but one of the few places they could be alone together – while her parents thought she was out riding in Hyde Park; her maidservant, acting as her chaperone, was happy to be complicit to the deceit, as she had a sweetheart of her own to spend time with. Realising that perhaps he had underestimated Araminta, Killigrew stared after her… and then remembered this was hardly the time for staring at pretty girls.

  He had resumed hitching the horses when Lieutenant Kizheh ran out of the keep carrying two empty pails. Seeing Killigrew, he stopped halfway to the well. He dropped his pails and tried to draw the sword scabbarded at his hip.

  Endicott stepped up behind him and smashed the stock of his musket into the back of his neck. Kizheh crumpled.

  Endicott unbuckled the lieutenant’s sword belt. ‘Sir?’

  Killigrew broke off from hitching the horses to see what the Liverpudlian wanted.

  ‘Look familiar, sir?’ Endicott tossed belt, scabbard and sword across to him.

  The commander caught it by the scabbard: his own scabbard, his own dress-sword. ‘That it does, Endicott. Much obliged!’ He buckled the belt over the Third Section greatcoat he was wearing and resumed hitching the horses.

  Endicott took Kizheh’s pistol and tossed it to Molineaux, who caught it deftly. ‘Get him out of sight, chop chop!’

  Thornton and O’Leary grabbed the unconscious Kizheh and dragged him to one side. ‘Tie him up and gag him!’ ordered Killigrew. ‘We’ll need to take him with us.’

  ‘What for?’ demanded Thornton.

  ‘Do you know the way back to Ekenäs from here?’

  Lady Bullivant was patiently waiting with two more horses by the time Killigrew had finished hitching the first pair to one of the telezhki. He yoked those two in front, and she headed back to the stables.

  Killigrew saw Araminta appear with the next pair. He signalled for her to stay put at the door to the stables. ‘Wait until I’m ready for them!’ he hissed. Understanding, she nodded.

  Above the gate, another gendarme tumbled over the railing of the gallery and fell to the courtyard with a scream that was sharply cut off when his head smacked against the cobbles: Iles’ handiwork.

  ‘Get that gun!’ the seaman hissed at Attwood, who nodded and hurried down the steps to retrieve the gendarme’s musket.

  Two more gendarmes appeared in the doorway facing Iles. He shot one in the chest, and the other levelled his musket at him. Iles, Uren and Searle all raised their hands. Then Attwood threw the musket up to them. Iles snatched it out of the air and fired a moment after the Russian did. When the smoke cleared, Iles was standing, but Uren crouched over Searle, who seemed to be wounded.

  No more Russians appeared at the door opposite Iles. He quickly reloaded the musket he was holding, and passed the other two he had now acquired to Attwood, who had climbed back up the stairs. ‘Know how to load these?’ he asked, pointing his own musket at the door ready for the next gendarme to show his face.

  Attwood shook his head.

  Uren took the muskets from him. ‘I’ll do it. See what you can do for Dick.’

  Killigrew signalled for Araminta to bring the next pair of horses, and began to hitch them to the second telezhka. As he did so, Lady Bullivant arrived with the last pair of horses and began to hitch them in front of the first pair.

  ‘I can do that,’ said Killigrew. ‘Get back out of sight.’

  ‘Many hands make light work,’ she retorted. ‘And I believe that time is of the essence?’

  ‘You know what you’re doing?’

  ‘I should hope so. I’ve seen my coachman do it enough times. Give me a hand, girl,’ she added to her daughter. ‘Pass me that trace… no, not that one, the one next to it… good girl. Now fasten this buckle…’

  Startled by the sharp reports of the muskets, one of the horses reared, neighing. Stepping to one side to avoid its forelegs, Lady Bullivant managed to catch it by the bridle. She hauled it back down, calming it, with the aid of her daughter, before it could spook the others.

  Half a dozen gendarmes charged out of the keep on to the gallery above them. Vowles shot one in the chest, then took a bullet in the face and sprawled on the planks. Mackenzie grappled another gendarme, while Ogilby turned and ran, with Todd hard on his heels. Mackenzie was pushed over the gallery rail to fall to the cobbles below with a yell, and the five remaining gendarmes pursued Ogilby and Todd around the gallery. The foremo
st of them raised his musket and fired: Todd flung out his arms and stumbled, falling to the boards without so much as a cry.

  ‘Molineaux!’ yelled Killigrew. ‘We’ve got a situation developing on the gallery!’

  ‘Leave it to me, sir.’ The petty officer ran across to where Burgess, Fuller and Yorath were sabotaging the wheels of one of the unhitched telezhki, and pointed to the other. ‘Push that one up against the door!’ he snapped, pointing across to where Endicott stood on guard with Thornton and O’Leary.

  Burgess, Fuller and Yorath put their backs to the telezhka and, seeing their intention, Thornton and O’Leary ran to help them while Endicott kept the door covered with his musket. Molineaux was already halfway across the courtyard, running to a point below the gallery where Ogilby was still fleeing from the Russians.

  ‘Charlie!’ yelled Molineaux.

  Ogilby looked down, and the petty officer threw Kizheh’s pistol up to him. Ogilby fumbled the catch, and the pistol fell to the boards.

  ‘Bloody lubber!’ Molineaux climbed on to a low wall and scrambled up on to the roof of the stables.

  As the gendarmes bore down on Ogilby, he managed to grasp the pistol and whirled, firing. One of the Russians clapped a hand to his head and staggered back with blood running between his fingers. The other four charged on.

  Molineaux jumped from the roof of the stables, caught hold of the bottom of the gallery and swung there for a moment, before pulling himself nimbly up and over the railing to stand between Ogilby and the gendarmes. The leading gendarme did not see him land on the gallery until it was too late. Molineaux caught the muzzle of his musket, forced it aside, and then gripped it in both hands. He pressed the barrel against the Russian’s throat, choking him against the railing. His left hand found the trigger guard and he slipped his thumb through it, pulling the trigger to shoot the next gendarme in the belly. He jerked the musket out of the half-strangled gendarme’s hands and swung it like a club to bring down a third, who was too busy stumbling over the body of his fallen comrade to pay attention to what Molineaux was doing.